Savior
by weasleypatronus
Summary: Hermione struggles with her memories of the war and her feelings for Ron. In a brave moment she goes downstairs, where her walls finally crumble down in front of Ron. Ron x Hermione oneshot, starts with angst and ends with smut and love. Might get another chapter. Rated M for sexual content
1. Chapter 1

**okay I hope you enjoy this little Ron and Hermione moment! x**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters.**

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The Burrow was dead quiet. You could hear the mice shuffling around behind the walls, the windows creak because of the summer's night breeze. You could hear Ginny's steady breathing at the other side of the room, and it made Hermione's head feel like it was about to explode.

Every time she'd close her eyes, she saw green and red spells blasting out of wands instead of the usual blackness of her eyelids. High pitched screams filled her ears every time she was alone and the smell of fire and burning skin was still carved into her nostrils. It had been almost two weeks since the final battle, but it felt like she had stood in the middle of groups of fighting wizards, battling an army of Death Eaters just seconds ago.

The days weren't so bad, Harry and Ginny kept her mind off of things most of the time, probably to keep their own minds off of things as well. Molly and Arthur were out most of the day, strolling along the wide fields surrounding the Burrow, only coming back inside to make dinner and sleep. Molly wasn't coping very well, the loss of Fred had left deep marks. Her eyes were always blood-shot and watery, as if she had not stopped crying since the loss of her child, which was probably true. Arthur was trying to get her back on track by appreciating her food, but they all tasted her salty tears, making her food not as good as it used to be. Looking at her, a lost, damaged soul trying but failing to take care of the ones she loved, made Hermione's heart ache.

And then there was Ron.

Hermione hadn't talked to him since they came back to the Burrow, simply because she hadn't had a chance. Yes, they had comforted each other in the Great Hall and yes they had hugged each other goodnight the night after the war, but they still hadn't talked about what had happened in the chamber of secrets. Every time she came to the top floor, where he and Harry shared his bedroom, he'd mutter something about needing to help his mum and was out before she was able to say Merlin. At dinner he didn't look a her or smirked at her when their feet bumped into each other, as they so often did, but instead he stared at his plate the whole time, as if he wanted to burn a hole in it with his eyes. Hermione had tried to talk to Harry about it, but he had simply shrugged his shoulders and told her that it really was Ron she had to talk to.

So here she was, lying in her makeshift bed in Ginny's room, thinking about that particular read-headed boy, while she was trying to stay awake because falling sleep meant going to that place, and she was never going to go there again, ever.

The nights weren't a time to relax anymore, they were a time of pure horror.

She would never sleep again, if that's what it took to keep the cackling laugh of Bellatrix Lestrange out of her head.

The sound of someone descending the stairs cut through her thoughts and she knew right away that it was Ron. He had gone downstairs every night since they had come back, and every night she had pondered on about whether she'd go to him or not. Every night she had decided against it, and had listened to him bustling about in the kitchen instead. This night, however, she decided that it was now or never, and she got out of her bed and quietly descended the stairs, so that she won't wake anyone. As she reached the kitchen door she stopped in her tracks, taking in the scene before her. Standing in front of her, but with his back towards her, was Ron. He was only wearing his pajama-shorts and an old Chudley Cannon shirt, and he was reaching for the cacao-powder bin at the top shelve. Hermione couldn't do anything but stare at him, taking in every detail of his body. Of course, she had noticed that he had gotten broader since last summer, but the way his shoulder muscles moved under his shirt, which was a bit too small for his tall frame, made her breathing become uneven. As he flexed his arm to its full extend, standing on his tiptoes to make himself as long as possible, his shirt rode up his belly, and Hermione's eyes focused on the stripe of bare skin at the bottom of his shirt. The skin was slightly red from the sun, and completely covered with freckles. His pajama shorts rested low on his hips, and Hermione had a clear view of his bum, which was surprisingly round and only covered with his boxers. Hermione subconsciously licked her lips as she went back to the naked skin of his back.

In her mind she was replaying the memory she had replayed every time she wasn't haunted by the memories of the war. She could feel Ron's arms around her again and his lips on hers, as they had clenched to each other desperately. She could feel the soft touch of his lips on hers, and his arms around her waist, as they had kissed for the first time. She could taste him again; a mix of chocolate biscuits and spearmint, and a strong flavour she could only describe as "Ron". As he had lifted her off her feet, he had opened his mouth, and his taste had overwhelmed her, making her knees go weak and her heart pump twice as fast as it already did. He had gently pushed his tongue inside of her mouth, tasting her with a passion that made Hermione's love for him even stronger. They had moved in such a perfect synchronization, that every doubt about their souls being made for each other had left Hermione's brain. They hadn't been standing in the Chamber of Secrets anymore, and Harry hadn't been shouting at them that they had a war to win. They had been the only souls on earth and Hermione had absolutely loved it. She could remember how his shoulders had felt under her touch as she had pulled him even closer, so that every inch of his body touched hers. Ron's big hands had rested on her lower back, fingers spread as if he wanted to touch her whole body at once, and he had pushed her to him as if she was a baby that needed protection. He had held her as if she was everything he would ever need, and that was exactly how she had felt about him.

Hermione hadn't noticed that her breathing had quickened, and when Ron's concerned voice cut through her memory, she flashed her eyes open, which she had closed absent-mindedly, completely emerged in her thoughts. Her eyes fluttered to Ron's face, and she realized that he had probably been watching her for quite a while. A blush crept up her cheeks as she quickly tried to regain her composure, shaking her body lightly, as if she wanted to shake off Ron's touch. "Hermione, " Ron said, his voice more husky than normal. "what are you doing here? "

"urghh, I coul.. couldn't sleep. I.. I heard you coming down the stairs so I thought I... I'd keep you company for a while.." she looked up and saw the discomfort and awkwardness in Ron's ice-blue eyes. "I should go though, I'm sorry for startling you. Goodnight.." She turned to leave the kitchen, but a gentle touch on her wrist stopped her. Ron's hand had closed itself around her wrist, his touch sending warm sparks through her body. She snapped her head back to look at her wrist, a blush once again creeping up her face.

"Hermione, stay. Please."

It hadn't been more than a whisper but it was enough for Hermione. She turned towards Ron, but hadn't realized that he had stepped closer, so she bumped into his chest. Her arms instinctively went up to protect her chest, and she found herself clutching his shirt with both hands. Their closeness was both comforting and unnerving, his scent overwhelmed her and she didn't dare to look him in the eyes. She was sure that if she did, she would lose all the self-control she had so hard tried to build the past week, and she didn't want to crack in front of him. A wave of shame came over her as she felt tears welling up in her eyes. The desperation in his voice had brought her back to Shell Cottage, where his voice had sounded exactly the same when he had tried to get her back to her real self, comforting her and speaking to her softly, as if he didn't want to scare her off. As much as he had tried, he hadn't succeeded, and realizing this made Hermione's heart sink. She tried to step back to get up to Ginny's room before it was too late, but Ron had reflexively grabbed her waist as she had bumped into him, so she couldn't move. Her breaths became shallow and her head began to spin, as she lost herself in her memories once again. Her ears were ringing with the sound of Ron screaming her name in Malfoy Manor, and she couldn't hold back her tears anymore.

So she cried.

She cried about everyone and everything they had lost. she cried for Colin, for Tonks and Lupin. She cried for Fred and with that she cried for George, who would never be able to feel whole again. She cried for Dumbledore and Sirius, she cried for Dobby and she even cried for Hedwig. But mostly, she cried for herself.

She had lost herself in that war. She didn't know who she was anymore, every time she looked into the mirror she didn't see Hermione Jean Granger. She saw a girl with haunted eyes, who stared at her without really seeing her. She cried because of the fact that she never would feel completely happy again. She cried for the guilt she felt towards all the people she hadn't managed to save. Every time she felt her heart beat the guilt coursed through her more violently. She should live her life the best way possible, she owed that to them, but instead she lived in the past, not being able to shake off all the horrible things she had gone through. She didn't deserve to live, if she couldn't even look at her best friend without feeling responsible for the pain in his eyes. She had failed as a witch and now she was failing as a human, by being a weakling and, instead of helping him, dragging Ron with her in her pain.

All the tears she had forced back for two weeks came out, all the fear and sorrow she had held inside because she had had to stay strong came to her all at once, and all she could do was cry. Ron's orange shirt got darker and darker as more tears descended her cheeks and stained the fabric, but slowly her heart began to shrink into its normal size. The guilt began to ebb away, and the room slowly stopped spinning. She could breathe normally again and noticed that she felt better than she had in days.

Slowly she began to realize that Ron's hands hadn't stayed where they were before her walls had crumbled down. He was now rubbing her back, firm but in a gentle way, leaving hot trails which caused a shiver to run down her spine. She then heard his voice, quiet and soothing, muttering comforting words into her hair. He kept saying that he was sorry, that he should have gotten to her earlier, that he could have saved her. She felt his tears leaking through her hair, touching her scalp like hot knifes. She had been clutching his shirt tightly, and slowly released her grip. She then moved her arms around his waist, so that her chest touched his. She could feel his heartbeat on her ear, and heard the speed of the pumping sound increase as she stepped a bit closer to him. She heard Ron inhale sharply, and couldn't help but blush. his large hands still continued to rub her back, easily covering every inch of her tiny frame. His muttering stopped as Hermione's sobbing sounds subsided and she slowly opened her eyes. As she looked up, she saw him staring at her, his eyes filled with sadness and concern, but most of all love. He looked at her the way he had looked at her after their kiss in the Chamber.

He looked at her like she meant more to him than anything the world had to offer.

He slowly removed one of his arms from around her waist and pushed the curls that stuck to her tear-stained face out of the way. he then wiped his thumb under her eyes gently, removing the tears that hadn't made it to his shirt. Hermione flashed him a weak smile, still feeling a bit wobbly from all the feelings she had just let out. She didn't trust her voice to start talking, so she just looked into his eyes. She had missed his eyes. During the time that they were away she had looked in them every single day , and now she hadn't seen them for over 10 days. The colour of them took her breath away.

She had always loved Ron's eyes, they had been her absolute favourite colour since the first time she had seen them; she had even painted the walls of her bedroom at her parents house in the same colour, so that she would miss him a bit less during the summer. She loved diving in those pools of blue, reading all his emotions and secrets, as if she was diving for sea urchins in Greece. Whenever he laughed they'd lit up, showing golden spots, like the sun reflecting on the surface of the ocean at sunset. She had studied them every time she had had the chance, which was a lot since they had been stuck in a tent for most of the journey. She knew every expression, every feature, every shade of blue and she would fantasize about what colour his eyes would be when he felt passion, love, or lust.

Every time she had looked at him during their quest she'd imagined what it would be like if she stood only mere inches away from him, how she would feel when his arms were around her. She had already known that she loved him, it was obvious. Every time he had touched her the feeling wouldn't go away for several hours. And now she was standing in his arms, his face was only mere inches away, and his eyes were locked with hers.

Ron broke the silence by clearing his throat awkwardly. He didn't remove his hand from her face, though. It was now cupping her cheek, and she felt herself leaning into his touch.

"I am so sorry, Hermione," he muttered, his voice heavy with emotion. "you shouldn't have to feel this way. The war is over, everything is going to be just fine. Yes, we lost people who are dear to us in the battle, but we are still alive, and we should be happy because of that. You deserve happiness, Hermione." She felt her tears well up again at the amount of passion in his eyes.

"I.. I just feel so guilty. Fred deserved a life, and Teddy deserves his parents... I wish I-"

"Don't** ever** think that again Hermione, that's just rubbish!" Ron nothing but shouted, interrupting her sentence. "You deserve to live more than anyone in the world. You have been so brave, even after the war you stayed strong, trying to hide your emotions to help the ones you love. If you had died.. I.. I don't know what I'd do. I'm not saying that I don't miss Fred, bloody hell I miss him so fucking much. But **never **feel guilty about living. Promise me. You.. you mean the w.. world to me, Hermione. I... I don't think I'd be able to live without you." his voice had slowly died out, and he broke eye contact, looking at his shoes, his face a deep shade of red. Before Hermione could say anything, however, he looked up again, and the intensity of his stare made her gasp. There were tears running down his cheeks, but in his eyes was nothing but determination and love.

"I love you Hermione. I love you so fucking much."

Hermione's tears had started to flow again as well, but she didn't have time to wipe them away, as Ron's crushed his lips onto hers. Her eyes shot tight at the feeling of his lips against hers, and all bad thoughts left her brain as Ron filled every corner of her mind. He moved his hands to her neck and buried them in her hair, making it even fuzzier than it already was. Hermione's hands were still around his waist, but she removed them and instead wrapped them around his neck, pulling him even closer. Ron hugged her as close as possible, so that she could feel his body pressed against hers. She opened her mouth and traced her tongue against his lips, causing Ron to groan wildly as he opened his mouth as well. Their tongues battled each other in a slow and sensual fight, and Hermione lost herself in the taste of him. He gently took her tongue in his mouth and sucked on it softly, making Hermione cry out in surprise. His hands traveled down her back and stopped as they reached her bum, cupping it with his large hands. Hermione arched her back, trying to feel as much of Ron as possible, and moaned as she felt his excitement probe her stomach. Her lips released his and she moved down to his neck, loving the feeling of his stubble against her lips. She moved to his ear and nibbled on his earlobe. Ron groaned loudly and lifted her off the ground by her bum, making Hermione gasp in his ear. She wrapped her legs around his waist and Ron pushed her up, so that her sensitive part rubbed against his growing erection . They both gasped at the sensation, and Hermione closed her eyes in delight.

She felt Ron back down, until he hit the counter, where he turned around to gently put her on top of it. Her then moved his lips towards hers again, thrusting his tongue inside right away, making Hermione whimper. He stood between her legs as she still had them wrapped around his, and the feeling of his prominent member against her sensitive nub made her shiver with desire. "Ron," she breathed, as he let go of her lips to suckle on her collar-bone. She threw her head in her neck, giving him better access, and dragged her nails over his shoulders, making him bite down as passion took over. He grinded against her, and Hermione gasped as his movement caused friction between them, making the tension in her now pulsing area worse. She slowly began moving with him, causing a beautiful rhythm between them which left them both gasping for air. They both had their eyes shut closed as they enjoyed the feeling of each other, touching every part of each other's body, kissing every inch of uncovered skin, moaning and hissing in delight.

They were so engrossed in the feeling of each other that they hadn't heard the bathroom door, and the sound of someone flushing the toilet made them jump. Ron quickly stepped backwards, entangling himself from Hermione. Hermione tried to catch her breath, feeling extremely flustered and turned on. She glanced at Ron and saw that he was looking at her, his mouth agape, biting his bottom lip. Hermione blushed and slowly got off the counter, walking towards him with wobbly legs. He flashed her a goofy grin, and she couldn't help but to giggle, something she thought she would never be able to do. Her heart didn't feel so broken anymore, Ron had filled some of the gaps with his touches and sweet words. Her tears had stopped and the hurricane in her mind has died out. He was her savior, and she would never let him go again. So she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tightly, kissing the top of her head in the sweetest way possible. After a while Hermione looked up, and smiled her first genuine smile since the war.

"I love you too, Ronald Billius Weasley. I do now, and I will forever."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: sorry for the awfully long delay, but here ya go! thanks for the reviews and favourites, you guys are amazing! xx**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything, although I would love to have my own Ronald Weasley.. **

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_"She's so beautiful."_

Ron couldn't help but admire the view as a wobbly, flustered Hermione slowly made her way to his outstretched arms. Even with her eyes swollen and red from crying and her hair a tangled mess, she made him ogle her as if he was watching a Veela doing a striptease. He was pretty sure that Hermione'd even look good wearing Hagrid's mot-eaten clothes.

Then it dawned on him why she looked so disheveled. He had kissed her. Again. He, the unknown redhead, who always stood in the shadow of "the boy who lived", who always wore hand-me-downs and never really stood out in anything, except from getting a sunburn and eating, had kissed Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, and probably of all wizards and witches alive, who succeeds in everything as soon as she sets her mind to it. The girl every boy at Hogwarts at least once had a wet dream about.

And she had kissed him back.

A grin slowly appeared on his face and he heard a sound he never thought he would ever hear again. The sound filled his hearth with warmth, made his skin tingle, and his grin even wider. He would never grow bored of the sound of Hermione's laugh.

He hadn't heard her laugh since the war had begun, the last time being at Bill and Fleur's wedding, when Harry had made a complete fool out of himself as he tried to blend in with the Weasley family. But even that laugh wasn't as genuine as the one that had just filled the quiet kitchen.

As soon as Hermione and he had heard about Harry's mission her eyes had changed. The sparkles that normally adorned her eyes, making them look like there was a whole galaxy hiding in them, had faded away, and so had her happiness.

She had done so much to protect the ones she loved, she had gone as far as she could go. Removing herself from her parent's memories so that they would be save, going on this trip with Harry while he didn't have a clue about what he was doing. She had been so strong, determined to fight evil, to make the world a better place, even if that meant that she wouldn't be a part of it anymore.

And she had never backed out.

Unlike himself, she had stayed with Harry, never leaving his side, even in the darkest of times. Everywhere around her she had heard about Muggles and witches being killed, but she had pulled through, and she had succeeded, like she always does. Voldemort had been defeated and she was still alive. But she hadn't been the same Hermione as before.

Everything had changed.

Ron had been so worried. He had thought that after the war, everything would go back to normal. Yes, of course they had lost a lot of people they loved, and they would carry that loss with them for the rest of their lives, but they were still alive, and they had won. But he had soon found out that this wasn't the case. Hermione's sad eyes hadn't turned happy, the sparkles hadn't returned as he had hoped.

The sight of her had given him shivers. She was still beautiful to him, she would never be anything else than beautiful, but something about her look made him feel as if she had died with everyone else. She walked around the Burrow as if she was wasn't really there, as if it was a mere projection of her. It had made him feel so helpless and sad. The girl he loved more than anything else in the world wasn't there anymore, and he had been so afraid that she would never come back. So he had done what he always does when he finds himself in an awful situation: he had backed away.

Every time Hermione came to talk to him, he had made up a silly excuse to leave the room. He had known that what he was doing was only hurting her more, bloody hell he had been through this many times before, but he couldn't help it. There had been a tension between them, and not the good kind of tension that always seemed to hang around them. This tension meant that she wanted to talk, and if there's anything in the world that Ron sucked at more than everything else, it was talking. Especially about feelings. Normally he would have made a remark to shut her out of it, but he had been afraid that if he said something she would crack completely and he would never get her back. So he had run away from her every time she came to see him, leaving her disappointed and sad. They had stopped their foot bumps during dinner and their sneaky glances when they were together.

It had made him feel even worse than he already felt.

At night he hadn't been able to sleep, thinking over every encounter he had with Hermione and cursing himself for being such a twat. He would go downstairs every night, making himself a cup of tea, secretly hoping that he would wake Hermione so that they could talk.

And now she was back.

She walked into his arms and closed her own around his neck, resting her head on his chest. He couldn't help but close his arms around her waist to get her as close as possible. She smelled like the almond shampoo she always uses and he kissed her head lightly, enjoying the ticklish feeling of her bushy curls in his face. They stayed like this for a while, putting comfort out of each other while they listened to the intruder's footsteps going up the stairs.

_"Harry, you're gonna bloody pay for this"_ Ron thought as he heard the boy's quiet footsteps ascending the attic stairs to their shared room.

After a while he felt Hermione move in his arms. He looked down and saw her gazing up at him, a smile on her face. He didn't even have time to think about the last time he had seen her smile her Hermione-smile, because her following sentence deleted all the thoughts in his brain, making the words echo for what seemed like a thousand times.

"I love you too, Ronald Billius Weasley. I do now, and I will forever."

He just stared at her, unable to move or say anything. Hermione loved him. Bloody fuck, Hermione fucking Granger loved him! Of course, when he had kissed her in the Chamber of Secrets and she had almost jumped into his arms he had had his suspicions, but when she didn't act on it after the war he had accepted the fact that she had acted on pure adrenaline, without having any real feelings for him. He blinked down at her, tugging her to him a bit tighter to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. Hermione let out another giggle, her face all cute and flustered. He locked his eyes with hers, gazing into her brown orbs.

They sparkled again.

Ron almost couldn't hold back the relieved sigh that wanted to escape his mouth. Hermione's beautiful eyes, the ones he had fallen for as soon as they had connected with his, that made his brain foggy and his knees weak, and turned him into a rambling mess, not able to say anything of significant value, were back.

Hermione's eyes were so different from anyone else's. They were brown, but there was nothing dull about them. Her eyes seemed to be made of molten chocolate, both dark and milk stirred into this perfect scheme of different brown shades. When the sunlight hits her eyes the colour comes to life even more, as if the chocolate inside melts and becomes liquid again, showing the passion that she keeps in her heart by glowing and sparkling.

He felt the urge to kiss those eyes, but he chose to kiss her lips instead, slowly and lightly, still afraid that she would turn into fog and he would wake up in the kitchen, like he had done all those night before. She didn't, however, and when he let go and she let out a small disapproving whimper, he couldn't help but smile. He felt her hands tug his hair lightly, ordering his face to come closer again. He felt her smile against his lips and he kissed her again, this time deepening the kiss by pulling her even closer to him, licking her lips with his tongue to ask for entrance. She opened her mouth without hesitation and for the second time that night he forgot how to breathe. Her taste filled him completely and he let out a moan, making Hermione giggle in his mouth. His hands had wandered up her back into her hair, and he slowly tugged it, earning a gasp from Hermione as he took her by surprise. He drifted away from her mouth to nip at her earlobe. "You asked for it" he murmured into her ear, and Hermione let out breathy laugh as she playfully tugged his hair again. Ron groaned and softly bit her earlobe, quickly soothing the bite by licking over the mark with his tongue. He then moved over her jaw to suck on the sensitive part at the nape of her neck. Hermione moaned loudly and he chuckled against her skin as he did it again.

"My turn." he heard Hermione whisper, and he felt her tug his hair again, upwards this time. She locked her lips with his, and this time she took the lead. She first kissed his upper lip, sucking on it slowly. She lightly bit it before moving to his lower lip to do the same. Ron growled as he slowly lost his patience, wanting to taste her again. Hermione's hands left his hair and she lightly traced her index finger over the sensitive skin behind his ear while repeating her lip nipping and sucking. Ron shivered and Hermione chuckled, stroking the skin again. Ron growled against her lips and lightly bit them, making Hermione pull away.

"Patience, my love" she said, a blush creeping on her face as she realized that she had called him my love. Ron just looked at her and in that moment, it dawned on him that no one could ever love Hermione more than he did. He ran his large hands down her spine, making her shiver. "I could easily get used to that nickname," he said, flashing her a grin. "Good, because I'm planning on calling you that a lot." Hermione smiled, her face now beet-red, but her eyes determined. "Thank you Ron, for everything." She looked at the ground, suddenly shy. Ron cupped her chin and lifted her head so that she looked at him. "I should be the one thanking you, Hermione. You saved me so many times, I can never repay you for that. But I can try, and I plan on trying as long as you'll let me. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Hermione, please don't ever forget that." Hermione surprised him by letting out another giggle. "I didn't know you could be this cheesy, Ron. I though you were all tits and butts, but you're a real Shakespeare behind that act." Ron looked at her and couldn't help but smile back at her. He didn't care that he reminded her of some Shakespeare, whatever that was. Hermione was back, and he would do anything to keep her. "Who said that Shakespeares don't like tits and butts ? " He grabbed her arse and gave it a firm squeeze, earning a loud squeal from Hermione. He slowly began to massage it and Hermione's eyes shut tight at the feeling of his warm hands on her butt-cheeks. He nuzzled his nose in her neck and gave her a peck on her collar-bone before stepping away slightly. Hermione looked at him with her lower lip between her teeth and he couldn't help but lean towards her again, biting her lower lip so that she released it with a sigh. He kissed her softly and put his forehead against hers. "Fancy some hot chocolate?"

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Hermione couldn't believe it. Her emotions were swaying like someone who just downed 15 butterbeers in one go. One minute she feels like she's about to burst out in tears to never stop crying again, and the next she feels like she's on top of the world. As she watched Ron rummage about in the kitchen, making hot chocolate even though his shirt visibly stuck to his back - something that wasn't entirely because of the weather, she felt lighter than she had felt in days. Actually, if she thought about it, the last time she had felt this way was ages ago.

It had been just a random day at the Burrow during the summer holidays, but it had turned Hermione's world upside down.

It had been the day that she had had her first proper romantic thought about Ron.

Of course, she had known that she felt something for him more than friendship for a long time before that. She had always felt different around him than that she felt when she was around Harry. There was a certain static energy between them whenever they were close together. An energy that made her feet tingle and her knees buckle, while his ears always turned red and he suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands. But she had always pushed it back, thinking she was just being a silly teenager. Of course Ron Weasley didn't like her. He always called her insufferable, and only hung out with her so that he could copy her homework when she was done.

But on that particular summer's day, all the thoughts that were lurking at the back of her brain hadn't sounded that stupid anymore. The thought of Ron liking her didn't seem so unlikely.

They had gotten up really early that day, because it promised to be one of the hottest summer days. The previous day Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione had decided to make the most of it, going on a picnic in the morning and spending the rest of the day at the pond not too far away from the Burrow. That morning, Hermione had decided to wear a dress, something she didn't do very often, because she simply felt more comfortable in jeans. But even at 6.30 am she could feel that it was gonna be way too hot for jeans, even if they were shorts. So she had donned a dark green skater-dress, spotted with an orange and yellow buttercup pattern. The dress had an open back, dipping all the way to her waist, where the skirt flowed out and ended just above her knees. She had pulled her hair up in a quick bun before descending the stairs to help Ginny with preparing for the picnic. It hadn't taken long before the smell of sausages and eggs had awoken Ron and Harry, and soon they were heading their way to the pond. Hermione had noticed that Ron couldn't stay away from her, walking so close beside her that their arms were touching while they swayed. He had continuously snuck glances at her, and she had felt more desirable than ever. She had mentally thanked her mother for forcing her to pack her dress, because she could practically feel Ron's gaze burn at her exposed back.

The whole day Ron and Hermione had held a staring contest, and every minute she had held his gaze her feelings for him had grown stronger and the forbidden fantasies of him and her together had leaked back into the conscious side of her brain, making her feel slightly dizzy. He had touched her at every opportunity he got, and at the end of the day her whole body seemed to be on fire from all his caresses and stares. It had indeed been the hottest day of the summer, but in Hermione's memory it had been the hottest day of her life, because Ron had made her feel like she was on fire. He had opened the safety box at the back of her brain and all the romantic thoughts about him that she had stored there since the day they had met had leaked out and now swum around her head heatedly, making all her reasonable thoughts blur while Ron filled her mind.

That night Hermione had imagined her life with Ron by her side, sharing kisses and hugging each other. Having a life like the couples she had read about in those awfully cheesy novels of her mother. And she had loved every single bit of it.

"earth to Hermione.. Hermione are you still alive in there?"

Ron's voice next to her ear snapped her right back into reality. She couldn't wipe the grin that had spread on her face at the reliving of her most treasured memory off her face, so she decided to just let it stay there. The feeling of her cheeks stretching so far it almost hurt felt good, it had been way too long. "Yes, yes, I'm here. I was just thinking, that's all." Hermione turned to Ron and saw him looking at her with curious eyes, two steaming mugs in both of his hands. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, while giving her one of the mugs. "Care to enlighten me? I hope it wasn't my bad flirting skills you were thinking about." Hermione chuckled and Ron flashed her a cheeky grin, while sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs. Hermione slumped down on the one right next to him, facing him so that their knees were touching. "hmm, you could say that.." she inhaled the smell of hot cacao, and looked up surprised. "You remembered!" she exclaimed, gazing up at Ron's still smirking face.

"How on earth could I forget, Hermione. You take ginger in practically every drink! And let's not forget the time that you drank butterbeer with ginger and talked about us snogging. Nope this will stay in my brain like a sunburn , I'm afraid.." His ears had turned red at the mention of that day in the Three Broomsticks, but he was still looking at her, scanning her reaction. Hermione felt a blush creeping up her cheeks as she realized that he really had loved her for quite a while already, and she quickly stood up to give him a kiss on the nose, making him scrunch up his face in the cutest way possible. She laughed at him and sat back down, but even closer this time, so that their legs were intertwined between their bodies. They were both grinning like mad men and they just sat there, beaming up at each other for a while, waiting for the hot chocolate to cool off, drinking in each other's features instead.

The taste of the warm drink was exactly right; just enough ginger and a healthy amount of whipped cream. Next to that, Hermione couldn't help but notice how Ron's eyes would flick to her mouth each time she took a sip, which made her insides ignite as if the hot chocolate seeped through her esophagus straight into her bones and muscles, tingling along the way.

She had never had a drink so marvelous.

When the mugs were empty they had moved so close to each other that their noses were almost touching. Hermione again drowned in Ron's ice-blue orbs, and got a little light-headed from the closeness. The blueness absorbed her, and every part of her that touched him was blazing, sending shiver up her spine. When his hand found her knee she absent-mindedly let out a soft moan, closing her eyes at the electric wave that went straight to her core. She heard Ron inhale sharply and when she opened her eyes she found that he had moved even closer, so close she could have counted the freckles on his cheeks if she had wanted to. But she didn't want to count his freckles. She would have time enough for that later. Right now she wanted him to make her feel on top of the world again. She wanted to feel his lips on hers again.

He would elevate her to the highest of heavens, he would make her feel whole again, and the anticipation made her already red cheeks burn even harder. When her gaze locked with his she noticed that his eyes were blurred over with the same lust she felt crawling inside of her. She bit her lower lip and set her now cold mug on the kitchen table. She reached for Ron's mug as well and when their hands touched, they both sucked in a sharp breath. She slowly exhaled and put his mug aside as well, never breaking eye contact. His hand started to move in circles on her knee, and he licked his lips. She could smell the chocolate on his breath as he exhaled and she wanted nothing more than to taste it - chocolate mixed with Ron must be the best taste in the world.  
When she leaned into him even closer, however, the chair she sat on slid away under her, leaving her without any support, and she stumbled into him. Grabbing his chest, she tried to steady herself, but this only resulted in her pulling him with her as she crashed to the floor. Both of their chairs toppled over and fell on the hardwood floor, their crashing sounds mixing with the yelps coming out of Ron and Hermione's mouth, forming a loud orchestra in the kitchen.

As the sounds died away Ron and Hermione both lay still, their eyes shut tight as they waited for Molly's bellowing voice to appear, but the Burrow remained silent. When they were certain that no one was going to come downstairs they scrambled to their feet quickly, Hermione flicking her wand to set the chairs straight again, and looked at each other.  
Ron's hair was a disheveled mess, and Hermione was sure that she looked even worse. She felt something tickle inside her throat and before she realized what was happening, an uncontrollable fit of giggles erupted from deep within her. She quickly clasped her hand over her mouth and looked at Ron with eyes wide of shock. the feeling of laughter slowly filled her, making every fiber in her body shake with delight. She saw that Ron started to laugh as well, and her eyes began to water from the gayness that suddenly overcame her. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she shook with laughter, and soon she was sitting on the floor again, not able to stand from all the feelings that rushed over her.  
As she looked around she noticed how all the colours seemed more vibrant, how everything had gotten a bit lighter, as if her soul had removed the dark veil that had hung over her for so long. As she laughed and laughed she looked up at Ron, who was staring at her with watery eyes, chuckling along with her rush of laughter. She closed her eyes again and let the waves of happiness take her from the deserted island of sadness she had been stuck on for months. She had been a castaway, lost in the oceans of misery, until Ron had dragged her out of the choking depths and nauseating waves.

He was her own orange life boat, and she would never leave him again.

* * *

He had never thought he would see Hermione smile again, let alone laugh as genuine as she was now. As he watched her smiling face and felt her roaring laughter crashing into him as waves on the shore, he felt completely happy again. He had succeeded, he had managed to get the Hermione he loved so much back, and he couldn't help but laugh along with her, joining her song of happiness as he continuously watched her, burning the image of a happy Hermione in his brain, so that he would never forget how she looked when she was in pure extacy. He would try his best to make her feel like this for as long as she let him, since seeing her as joyful as she was now made him feel whole again. The sharp edge in his throat that had stung every time he breathed in had disappeared, the worry and sadness he had felt for Hermione had decreased to its normal size and he felt like he could finally breathe again, as if he had finally broken through the membrane of an invisible air bubble that had choked him for so long.

After a while the laughter died out and the kitchen turned silent once more. Hermione slowly got to her feet and turned to Ron, and he could see the blush of laughter on her cheeks. Her eyes glistened with tears, but the good ones this time, and he outstretched his arms once more, inviting her closer. When he felt her collide with him he let out another chuckle.

"Hello again, gorgeous. Done laughing now, are ya? We should probably get some sleep, before everyone comes down for breakfast and sees you rolling around on the ground in your cute as fuck pj's" he whispered in her ear. Hermione just nodded against his chest, making approving sounds as she nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck. Having a feeling that she wouldn't move voluntary, he scooped her up and carried her towards the couch in the living room, where he dropped her not-so-graciously, before settling next to her. "Hmmm.. much better." he murmured, closing his eyes and pulling Hermione closer to him, so that he was spooning her from the back. Her hair tickled in his face as she moved her head so that she lay more comfortable, and he again got overwhelmed by the smell of her shampoo. He kissed her on her neck and began tracing random patterns on her arm, enjoying the warmth that radiated off her. He soon felt her relax in his arms and a smile crept on his face as he took in her sleeping face. She looked more at peace than she had done in months, and to know that he made her feel that way filled him with pride and happiness. By saving her he had saved himself, because making her happy made him happy, and he couldn't think of a more wonderful thing than that.

As his eyes began to droop and sleep overtook him he realized that she was his savior, and he would never let her go again.

* * *

thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! I think there will be more chapters, since I'm quite enjoying writing this story, so look out for that!

** reviews are much appreciated! x**


	3. Chapter 3

Hello lovelies! I'm so sorry about the delay, I've been busy with university business, like finding a room and packing my stuff, so i didn't really have time to write. I hope you like this, it turned a bit more angsty than i anticipated, but it will bring a bit more depth into the relationship, I think. ENJOY AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

* * *

The new day arrived with whispered conversation.

The muttered words were as quiet as they could possibly be, but they still weren't quiet enough to keep Hermione in her sleeping state. The giggles and hushes slowly seeped through her unconscious thoughts and pulled her back into the world that had changed drastically in the few hours she had been absent.

The words that had made it to her brain didn't seem to make any sense. The harder she tried to understand, the harder it got to make out the sentences through the hushing sounds. With her eyes still shut tight so they would think she was still asleep, she tried to remember where she was. It seemed as if she had only slept for ten minutes, her brain slow and quiet, still lingering to the harshly interrupted quietness that is sleep. By putting all her senses, but her sight on alert, she slowly realized that she wasn't in her bedroom; the breakfast smell that normally only faintly adorned the air was strong, the smell of bacon forcing its way in her nose, making her mouth water. Not to long after that it dawned on her that she wasn't lying alone. There was an arm circled around her waist that gently held her in place. She was pretty sure that, if the arm would disappear all of a sudden, she would tumble out of the bed. "_Did I fall asleep while talking to Ginny? Who is laying behind me?!_" She frantically searched her brain for the answer, going through everything she had done last night before sleep had taken her.

Her eyes flashed open wide, a gasp escaping her mouth.

She had fallen asleep with Ronald Weasley.

Everything turned ice sharp as all the events from last night rushed back, as if someone had cleaned the condensed goggles that had hidden these memories inside her brain. Hermione didn't even realize that her surroundings had grown quiet. She was breathing erratically, forcing the air inside her lungs at such a fast pace she wasn't even sure if she was breathing at all. All the emotions overwhelmed her and she felt herself lean into the body behind her.

Ron's body.

His arm instinctively tightened itself around her waist and she felt his slow and steady breath on her neck. She tried to mimic his breathing, and after a while she felt herself calm down. He always seemed to soothe her, calming her absent-mindedly. It would be one of his silly jokes, or the awkward neck scratch he so often does, but most of the time his presence alone would be enough. There was this air of rest and peace around him that she had not felt around anyone else, ever. It's like a radiance made especially for her, and it would soak into her skin to warm her bones and control her autonomic nervous system, calming her heart rate and breathing until she was completely calm again.

She remembered how she had listened to the soothing sound of his breaths before falling asleep last night; it was the sweetest lullaby she'd ever heard. Now that she thought of it, she couldn't remember feeling this well rested in ages. There had been no nightmares, and she had not woken up once in the whole night, something that hadn't happened since the war had started.

"He really is my savior." she whispered.

She then noticed the absence of sound, and she focused on her surroundings to check where exactly she was lying. As her blurry sight became sharper, her cheeks turned red, and for a split second she wished she hadn't gone downstairs last night, because then she wouldn't have been in the horribly awkward situation she was now.

Everywhere she looked there were ginger-haired people, grinning like madmen at the sight before them. And to make it worse, she could see George and Bill taking photos of it all.

Since it was only 2 weeks after the battle, the whole Weasley family -including Harry, who was basically part of the family by now- slept in The Burrow. Although no one would admit it, most of them stayed for Molly. They all wanted to check on how she was dealing with everything, and since no one was happy with what they saw, they stayed to make her feel less alone. It was as if all the Weasley men tried to fill up Fred's place, even if they knew that this wasn't possible. It was nice having them around, though. They filled the air with chatter and sometimes even laughter, and it gave Hermione the chance to get to know the entire Weasley family. She hadn't had a chance to really talk to Charlie, Bill, and Percy before the whole war thing had started, and now they didn't have to go anywhere, there was time enough for that. At a normal occasion she would have even been happy about seeing George's sly grin again as he snapped away, but for now, at this very moment, Hermione wished they had all gone to their own homes, because there was just a bit too much ginger around her. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, unsure of what she was supposed to say to make them stop staring at her. She looked at Ginny, who was grinning and wiggling her eyebrows, and Hermione wished she knew where her wand was, so that she could hex those eyebrows with a nice enlarging spell. But before she could do that, she had to make sure that Molly wouldn't hex her, or Ron, into oblivion.

While Hermione stuttered a weak good morning, she thought about how she was going to tell everyone what had happened last night. The longer she thought of it, the more she began to regret the way she had acted the night before. While Molly and Arthur and everyone else was sorting out there lives, she was acting like a hormonal teenager, snogging someone in the middle of the night and falling asleep on the couch of the family who had so kindly granted her permission to stay. She had acted radical, without thinking of the consequences, and when she looked at Molly now, she could see how, beneath the affection molly felt towards her and the cheerfulness of the moment, there was also doubt, panic and pain in her eyes. The pain maybe wasn't due to her acts alone, but the panic and doubt probably were and this made Hermione's heart clench so painfully she almost gasped out loud.

She had done everything she had wanted to do for so long, but while doing that, she had lost a piece of herself. She had not followed the rules, not thought about others and most of all, she hadn't stayed between the lines. At the moment the Weasley family had needed her most, the moment when they could really use the Hermione that was down-to-earth, caring and clever, she had left that Hermione in the corner and chose for herself. She knew that people could break under the pressure of a trauma, she had seen it with her own eyes, but she had always thought that she would be stronger, that she would be able to pull through and help the ones she loved to go through it as well. But she had failed. She had failed the Weasley family, and she had failed herself. She should've waited, but instead she had succumbed.

Dark thoughts began to roll into her head like fog coming out of a fog machine at a club, and she couldn't do anything to stop it. She tried to push it away by focusing on Ron's breathing again, but the sound of her pumping heart was so loud that it shut off all the other sounds. It was as if someone had thrown timber on the flames Ron had almost entirely extinguished last night. The glowing embers of her depression turned into a roaring fire again, burning away the happiness she had felt just moments ago. Everything was into ashes again.

She had totally forgotten about the situation she was in, but she was snapped out of her dazed state when the arm that held her into place disappeared all of a sudden and she, just like all her happy thoughts, came crashing down. As the ground met her body in an unforgiving crash, sound washed over her and the sound of Ron's curses filled her ears.

then everything turned black.

* * *

The smell of bacon and eggs slowly waved its way through Ron's nervous system, awakening his senses until it finally hit the wake-up button at the back of his brain, pulling him out of his unconscious state. Ron started to move his arms above his head to stretch his stiff muscles, like he did every morning, but something stopped him from freely moving his left arm. He peeked open his left eye just a tiny bit to see why he couldn't move properly, and all the sleep he felt melted away instantly.

"BLOODY FUCKING.. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ALL DOING IN MY BLOODY BEDROOM?!"

Ron scrambled backwards, trying to hide his body under his sheets until he noticed that he was wearing a shirt and did not have any sheets to cover himself up with. Next to that, something was moaning ,as if it was in pain, right next to his bed. Which wasn't his bed. And to make it all even more complicated, his whole bloody family was watching him, booming smiles plastered to each of their faces.

"Could someone tell me what the fuck is going on, or do I have to hex someone's bullocks off first?!"

No one answered him though. The moaning sound had stopped and everyone's eyes were on the thing that had produced it, concern written on all of their faces. Ron hurried his way to the edge of the couch -_"why the hell did i fall asleep on the couch, for fuck's sake!"_- and peeked over it. On the ground lay a very disheveled Hermione. Ron stared at her unmoving body for a long time, roaming her tiny frame with his eyes as if he could read all the answers to his ignored questions on her skin. "_her skin._"

Suddenly, he remembered his hands touching a lot of that particular warm and soft skin less than 12 hours ago. He remembered her lips on his, her scent and her oh so lovely tongue. Ron's eyes grew wide as it dawned on him. He had slept with Hermione fucking Granger!

He didn't have time to relive everything that had happened that night, though, because Harry was shouting at him. Ron moved his gaze from Hermione and looked at him, confused about why he looked so panicked. Then his head finally caught up with his ears and all sound came back. "Ron! For Merlin's sake, do something! Wake her up! Don't let her lie there like that, you're the fucking -sorry Molly- freaking one who pushed her on the ground in the first place! GET OFF YOUR LAZY ARSE AND DO SOMETHING!" Harry just stood there, his arms waving in a frantic matter, trying to help Hermione by reaching out for her and then pulling back again, as if his touch was only going to make matters worse. Ron got up from the couch as fast as his stiff legs allowed him, and he then crouched next to Hermione, whose face was pale as a sheet, eyes closed. He gently took her by the shoulders and sat her up against the couch, so that her back was resting against it. He stared at her still closed eyes, stared so hard his eyes began to water. All he could think about was that he had fucked it up. Instead of making this morning the best morning of their lives, he had pushed her unconscious! He just didn't know what he had to do, all he could think about were the sparks that had been in Hermione's eyes that night. The sparks that still had to be there when she opened them again.

Since his mind couldn't produce any useful information, his instincts took over, and he pulled Hermione close. He could feel her heartbeat through their shirts and he pulled her even closer, so that every inch of their bodies was touching. He then did what he had done the night before when she had freaked out: he started whispering soothing words in her ear. He told her how she meant the world to him, how nothing was her fault and most of all, how much he loved her. He told her how he saw his life with her, how they would grow old and she would get a job at the ministry while he went to Auror training. How they would have ginger-haired kids that would be as smart as her, or bushy haired kids that would obsess over a not-so-talented quidditch team. he told her how they would live together forever, how they would make love in the morning and how he would never leave her. He poured out his heart and soul to her, while he kept pulling her closer, begging her to wake up and smile at him again. Hoping everything would stay perfect.

Hermione stayed quiet.

After what seemed like an eternity someone shoved him away from Hermione. He didn't even try to resist, nor did he look at who had shoved him so rudely. His whole mind was blank, his eyes wide with panic. He stared at Hermione's limp body, the image blurry because of his tears. He didn't even remember crying, but when he rubbed at his eyes he felt how his whole face was wet. There was a loud beeping in his ears, and it felt like he was breathing through a straw. All he could think of was Hermione, and how he had managed to ruin everything. His soul was in her head now, he had given her all he could give her, and she was still unconscious. He could still feel her heartbeat against his chest, as if she was still in his arms, but at the same time it felt like she was miles away. People were now blocking his view, standing over Hermione in a frenzy of movement and sound, but he couldn't register anything. He felt someone drag him up, and he let that person guide him away from Hermione without protest. He didn't know anymore. He didn't know what to do, how to function. All he knew was that the love of his life, who he had kissed for the first time less than 12 hours ago, was unconscious, and it was all his fault. He had not been able to save her, and it hurt like hell.

The butterflies that were soaring in his stomach just second ago had been turned into dragons, and Ron imagined them tearing at his stomach and intestines, eating him from inside out, while he couldn't do anything but sit in his room. What he was feeling surely matched the image.

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OKAY SO THIS WAS A SHORT AND ANGSTY ONE! there will be more, but I can't tell you when since uni will start in two days and I just don't know how much time I'll have between classes.** PLEASE REVIEW AND FOLLOW IF YOU WANT TO SEE MORE! XXXXXXXXXXX**


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